


Of the Thirteenth of December and Fun Gatherings

by Thegreenofyoureyes



Series: Christmas Fics 2015 [13]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, i love this one, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5423636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thegreenofyoureyes/pseuds/Thegreenofyoureyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Good night,” Luke replied softly. He opened his phone, watching the clock tick from 11:59 to 12:00, and thought about how maybe December 13th was now his favorite day. And how Ashton was definitely, far and wide, Luke’s favorite person.  </p><p>or, Luke and Ashton host a fun Christmas gathering and something kind of amazing happens</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of the Thirteenth of December and Fun Gatherings

**Author's Note:**

> Day 10! Sorry this went up so late. It took me longer than anticipated to write it. @Tanniri on Tumblr is amazing and kind and pure as always. Hope y'all have an excellent monday.

Luke and Ashton had owned the little record store for all of their relationship. They bought it together as friends, after Ashton fell in love with the idea. It took them a few years of shitty jobs while they studied business and finance, sure, but it was worth it. Luke loved the little shop. 

It had a brick storefront with big windows, and a sign that said “HI Music” in a font a friend had designed especially for them. They had spent months getting the inside, black and white with rainbows placed stylishly through, absolutely perfect. 

It couldn't compete with iTunes, of course, but the shop did well enough. People would always want physical copies, and they held events there whenever they could. 

It was Sunday, December 13th, and they had a Christmas music bash planned for that night. It was a college town, so most of the population would be going home the following week, and weekdays just wouldn't do. The Bash would, if it all went to plan, just be a time for local music to go up on the impromptu stage in the back and sing Christmas songs (or anything else they wanted. Luke and Ashton wouldn't kick them out for singing Wonderwall, or anything.)

Luke was downright excited. They’d gotten enough money from the tickets to have a little food table with plenty of booze. Ashton had spent most of the day moving the displays around so people could still browse, while also making sure there was enough room to watch the performance, while Luke had been arranging the food. It was mostly pizza (that was yet to come) and sweets, which Luke thought was perfect. 

Everyone who visited knew they were a couple. Sprinkled around the store, along with the various rainbows, were pictures of the couple, either with famous musicians or just having a good time. Nothing was left to mystery, and nothing had to be. It was nice. 

Ashton had put out various red-and-green accoutrements to complement the rainbows, and it looked downright good if Luke did say so himself. They were ready for a party.

Of course, it was 21+ for virtue of not wanting to card, and for who they knew. Luke was pretty sure Mike and Cal were coming, but they hadn't paid. Truthfully, they didn't have to. They would entertain the couple for free happily, whenever. 

When Ashton had moved the final display, he walked over to Luke. They were quite heavy, and the sweater the shorter boy had been wearing was simply too hot, apparently. Luke never felt so blessed as when Ashton took his shirt off, sparkling lightly with sweat. 

“That's good, yeah? Doesn't look too wonky?” Ashton asked, cuddling up to his boyfriend. 

“”It's fine. They're a bit crooked, but I like it like that. Makes it clear it's us, you know? That we didn't hire professionals,” Luke replied. 

“With how much I move these stupid things, I should be a professional by now.”

“You're the one who wanted wood instead of plastic, babe.”

Ashton laughed at that. It was gorgeous, honestly. His dimples always made Luke’s heart flutter, and they looked a bit like they were sucking the rest of the world in. Maybe they were. Luke's world, at least. It was a good thing. 

“You're not wrong, but I *think* you still owe me a backrub. You know, cause I was doing hard manual labor while you arranged a table.”

“If I even tried to touch the displays you'd worry about my back. You know that.”

“Yeah, well that's because I love you. And you *definitely* still owe me a backrub,” Ashton buried his face in Luke’s neck at this. 

Truthfully, it wasn't at all a burned. In fact, Luke loved touching Ashton whenever and however he could, and had actually been planning on massaging him regardless. Instead of saying anything of that sort, he just kissed Ashton’s head and said “I love you too.”

“What time is it?” Ashton asked, voice muffled by Luke’s clothing. 

“Uh, 4:30. We've got an hour until people come, right?”

“Yeah, that's right should we put up, like, tinsel or some shit?”

“I think it's perfect how it is. It's festive, but not too festive, just like us.”

“Luke we’re literally hosting a Christmas party.”

“Yeah, on a Sunday. With alcohol. Only heathens are coming. That's hardly the way a serious practitioner would celebrate the birth of Jesus.”

“You've clearly never done Christmas with Catholics.”

And, no, Luke hadn’t. He still laughed, though, because Ashton was funny, and because he loved him more than anything. They stayed standing, surrounded by band-March and CDs, Elsa looming in the corner, for just a little while. 

As a music shop, it was never silent. Right now Ashton was playing *Traveling Wilburys* because “sometimes you're just in the mood for George Harrison, Luke. And John was a dick I don't want to think about him while I'm thinking about Christmas.” And Luke wasn't sure about the truth of any of those statements, but that was okay. They were holding each other, and it was so incredibly right that maybe Luke could accept that sometimes George Harrison was a must. 

“So,” Luke said after a while, “how about that massage, huh? We've got some time left, and nothing to do that won't lead you into changing everything.”

“That sounds awesome. Thank you. Although, I'm not sure I like the implications of that.”

“You can stop whenever you want, right?”

Ashton wasn't a perfectionist about everything. He was fine letting his wild hair basically do itself, content to wear shirts riddled with holes, dance poorly, and laugh over-the-top. Aesthetics though. That was something that he would spend hours on. He was a photography student before he changed to business, and the artsy eye stuck with him. It drove Luke a little bit nuts sometimes, when he'd come home and their couch was “in an entirely different place for the third time this week, *oh my god, Ashton*” but mostly he loved it. It was also, Luke thought, at least 80% of their success. 

“I'm not even going to dignify that with a response,” Ashton said, laughing. Instead, he grabbed Luke’s hand and lead him upstairs to their apartment. 

Ashton’s skin was tan. Not proper “I was born like this” tan, but rather “I spend a lot of time in the sunshine, even when it's snowing” tan. His muscles moved through his skin gracefully, and Luke loved going behind shirtless Ashton just because it let him watch. He hoped Ashton wouldn't ever stop walking around near-naked, because he knew that even long after the muscles faded and all the sun caused a lot of moles and a fair few wrinkles, he'd still love it. 

God, Ashton was only 27, but he already had laughter lines that appeared when he wasn't smiling. The older boy wasn't too fond of them, “I'm getting old, Luke, and old men are cranky. I don't want to be cranky,” but Luke thought they were probably one of his favorite things on earth. Ashton had spent so much time smiling so big that it got stamped like little souvenirs right next to his eyes. 

“Lay down on the couch, yeah?” Luke said, when Ashton got the door open. 

“What for?” Ashton asked, though he complied.

“I'm gonna rub your back.”

“Oh Lukey, I wasn't serious. C’mon, let's just watch TV or something.”

“No! If your back hurts, then you'll be grumpy at the party and you'll want to go to bed early. Mike will accuse you of being an old man.”

Ashton thought on it for a bit, before shrugging and flipping over. 

“Kay, I'm gonna sit on you. Tell me if you want me to get up,” Luke said as he sat. Ashton had a bit of a confinement issue, but he trusted Luke implicitly. 

Ashton ran warm. Luke knew this, knew that Ashton was one of very few men that would say they were fine in short sleeves in the winter and actually mean it. The warmth underneath his hands was so primally comforting to Luke. It let him know, in the most basic way possible, “your lover is alive and well. Everything is okay.”

There were one or two loose knots that Luke worked out, because Ashton was always at least a little bit tight-wound, but mostly it was just muscles and warmth and trust and *calm*. Usually, because Luke had a bad back, it was Ashton massaging him, but returning the favor, especially when Ashton had such a nice body, when Luke loved the older boy *so goddamn much* was wonderful. 

They passed about twenty minutes in relative silence. Ashton sighed occasionally, and Luke commented briefly on the snow that had started falling. His arms, his hands hurt a bit, but it didn't matter much. Eventually, though, he tapped lightly on Ashton’s back twice before getting off the Older boy’s body. Ashton sat up, hair somehow more disheveled than before, and looking rather sleepy. Rather at peace. 

Luke sat down next to him, and pulled him into a kiss. Ashton was smiling, of course. Ashton was often smiling these days. It was wonderful. 

“What should we do now?” Ashton asked, pulling away “and thank you, by the way. That really was wonderful. We’ll have to do that more often.”

Luke kissed him chastely again as acknowledgement before replying “I'm thinking that TV suggestion is a good one. We’ve got like half an hour.”

“Mmh. Probably just YouTube videos then. We should be down there a bit early in case anybody comes. Don't want anyone stuck out in the snow, especially since Cal always comes early. We’d never hear the end of it.”

“Should we just go down now, then?” Luke asked, already getting up. 

Sure enough, they'd been back in the shop no more than ten minutes before Calum and Michael were knocking on the door Luke had forgotten to unlock. They were both red in the nose and adorned in snowy clothes. 

As he let them in, Luke swore he caught Michael sending Ashton a nervous look, Ashton nodding, but he paid it no mind. Mike had brought his guitar, and was probably just asking if he could put it down without ruining Ashton’s Feng Shui. 

As the evening went on, and the snow got thicker, many people showed up. The shop was warm, and a few guests had bought things on top of what they'd be getting in their gift bags. A few talented people, including Michael, and several mediocre ones had gone up and played whatever Christmas songs they knew. It was perfect. 

What Luke wasn't expecting, however, was Michael going back on the little stage as Ashton called for silence over the PA. This hadn't been part of any plan Luke knew. 

“Hey, so, um. I know I was up here before, but it's 10:30 now and I have something to do,” Michael said, red-and-green hair and serious tone commanding the small audience “right. So, I've been with Calum, the beautiful boy standing in the back taking with the lanky owner, for about 4 years, so this is probably way overdue. Um, I've been planning this since Ashton told me he and Luke were doing this thing, so here's hoping I know this song right. Calum, please don't get embarrassed and leave there's a bit more to this and I really need you to be in the room for it. This is called Something, by the Beatles. Well, technically, by George Harrison, but whatever.” 

And oh. Ashton’s earlier mood all made sense now. Michael started the song beautifully, with his quiet, but well-learnt guitar accompanying his voice. The lyrics were appropriately made gay, and Luke understood why Ashton loved George so much now. Sure, the song was about a woman who left him for his best friend, and maybe wasn't the most appropriate thing to sing to your boyfriend of four years in some strange declaration of love, but it was goddamn beautiful. 

Slowly, Calum made his way through the crowd and to the front of the room, standing right at the stage. Ashton was by Luke’s side now, leaning on him a bit. 

“Sorry I didn't tell you,” the older whispered. 

“Tell me what?” Luke replied, leaning down a bit to hear better. 

“That all this was happening.”

“What's happening, exactly?” 

“Wait really?” Ashton asked, turning to face Luke who was clearly being serious “Luke, this is a proposal. Michael is proposing to Calum.”

“Oh my god! What? Here? Why didn't you tell me?” Luke wasn't mad. Not at all. 

“Because you're such good friends with Calum, and you can't keep a secret for shit. The only reason Mike told me is because he wanted to make sure I wasn't planning on doing the same to you, or anything. He also wanted help planning.”

Luke knew he wasn't. It was fine. 

“That's fair, I suppose. I'm gonna cry, though. And I wouldn't have if I'd known, so you owe me at least 12 cuddles for that.”

“I'm not sure it's owing when they're happily given. Name the time and place.”

“Mmmm, bed. Right after everyone leaves. We’ll open late tomorrow and clean up in the morning.” Ashton didn't love it. Luke knew that. 

The couple both turned their attention to the stage, where Michael was just finishing the final verse of his song. He waited for a bit afterwards, to catch his breath and make sure Calum hadn’t left, before continuing forward. 

“Calum, pup, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Hands down. Thank you for being with me for as long as you have, and for being the best thing ever for the whole time. I was kinda wondering if you'd like to make it a forever thing, though. Shit. I had this whole big speech planned, but I'm so nervous I've forgotten it.” Michael said, pausing just long enough for Calum to grab his hand and say

“Baby, it's fine. What're you trying to say?”

“Ask. I'm trying to ask. Calum, will you marry me?”

And, even though maybe it should've been, that clearly wasn't what Calum was expecting. He let go of Michael’s hand and launched himself full-force at the boy’s body, saying “yes” over and over as fast as he could. And yeah, Luke was crying a bit. It was okay, though, because when he looked down, Ashton was too. 

When they were done kissing, Michael picked up the mic from its stand and yelled “he said yes, bitches! You can all go home now!”

And for the most part, people did, sensing that this was a time for friends rather than acquaintances. When it was only the four of them left, and Luke had let Ashton get away with throwing away most of the trash, they conglomerated at the center of the store. 

“Thank you so much for letting me do this here. Tonight. It means the world to me. This is such a special spot to us. And I just. Thanks,” Michael said, still holding Calum close to him. 

“It's not a problem. It was actually amazing. I'm so happy for you too!” Ashton said, as Luke offered his agreement. 

“You're happy for us?” Calum asked “I'm happy for us! Not only am I marrying the love of my life, but I don't have to spend another Christmas of our parents asking us when we’re gonna get married. Now, really, thank you, but we’ve got to get home and have the best sex of our entire lives. Good night!” 

Michael laughed loudly, yelling something about his future husband into the night as they walked out onto the cold, snowy streets. 

Luke turned to Ashton, who looked rather sleepy and soft and lovable, and simply said “upstairs?”

Ashton nodded, grabbing Luke’s arm and kissing it, before leading them both. 

They got ready wordlessly, both exhausted from a long, amazing day. God, their best friends were getting married! Honestly, Luke had never felt more like Christmas would be amazing that year. 

Their bed was soft, and Ashton held him close, warming him. Usually, Luke was up for a few hours after Ashton, reading his phone, so he assumed Ashton was asleep. So naturally, he was a bit shocked when he heard his lover’s voice cutting through the quiet room. 

“Do you want to get married?” Ashton asked, before quickly amending “to me, I mean. And, like, this isn't a proposal or anything. It'll be way better than this, and I don't want to steal Michael’s thunder. I just… Do you want to marry me someday?”

Luke wasn't sure he could imagine anything better than lying in bed, cuddling Ashton, but he was excited to try. 

“Of course I do. I mean, I kinda see forever and Ashton as synonyms, so yeah. Do you?” Luke knew. He knew that was a loaded question. Ashton had a bit of a past, one that made falling in love scary and the idea of staying in love even scarier. He also knew just what Ashton was implying, and he loved it. 

“Yeah. I do. I really really do. I love you so much Lukey.”

“I love you, too.”

“Goodnight. For real this time,” Ashton said, pulling Luke a bit closer and closing his eyes. 

“Good night,” Luke replied softly. He opened his phone, watching the clock tick from 11:59 to 12:00, and thought about how maybe December 13th was now his favorite day. And how Ashton was definitely, far and wide, Luke’s favorite person.


End file.
